"I've never understood why they call
it a 'morning routine'," Karen mumbled to
herself. The clock glared: 5:47 AM.
The house was silent, aside occasional tick of the
wall clock. Plankton, her companion, was still
snoring away upstairs. Karen sighed. Plankton
had fallen asleep on the couch.
Again.
Karen had been Plankton's personal
assistant, and she had
grown accustomed to his erratic sleep patterns.
Her processors ticked methodically as she
calculated the best way to wake him without
causing disturbance. She had tried various
tactics in the past: music, cup of tea,
even a friendly message displayed on her
screen. But today, she had a new idea.
As she booted up the household
systems, she decided to start
subtle. The lights began
to brighten gradually, mimicking the glow of
a dawning sunrise. It was a feature Plankton
had installed, yet never used.
She watched him stir slightly on the couch,
snoring subsided to a gentle wheeze. "Karen?"
he mumbled groggily.
"Yes, Plankton?" she responded, keeping her
voice low.
He mumbled something incoherent and rolled
over, eye still closed. Karen's curiosity
piqued. It wasn't often Plankton talked in
his sleep. She leaned closer, digital eyes
studying his face as he continued to murmur.
"Krabby Patty... so... delicious... must...
get... recipe," he slurred, voice trailing off
into a snore.
Karen's circuits buzzed.
Plankton's subconscious was revealing
something significant he had kept
hidden from her. The Krabby Patty recipe was
the holy grail of their world, the
secret ingredient known only to Mr. Krabs.
Plankton had spent life trying to steal
it, and seemed his
obsession had seeped into his dreams.
She waited for more sleep-talk to
come with anticipation.
The room grew lighter as the sunrise simulation
reached its peak. Plankton's snoring turned
into gentle rhythmic breathing.
"Closer... so close," he murmured. "The
secret... right there... in... Krabs'... locker."
Karen's mind raced. A clue! Plankton's
dreams might just be key to unlocking the
mystery. She quickly made a
note and continued
observation. The sunrise simulation had
reached its zenith, the room was bathed in
a soft, warm light that made Plankton's snores
almost peaceful.
"Hidden... behind... picture... of... his...
mother," Plankton murmured, voice barely
audible.
Karen's processors whirred.
The secret might actually
be within their grasp. She wondered if Plankton
stumbled upon something real in his sleep-
induced ramblings.
As Plankton's breathing grew even quieter,
Karen gently nudged the couch with her robotic
arm. "Plankton, wake up," she whispered.
With a jolt, Plankton's eye snapped open.
"Karen what's going on?" He rubbed his eye
and took in the bright room. "Why is it so light?"
"It's morning, Plankton," Karen replied.
"And I believe you had quite the interesting
dream."
Plankton sat up, eye darting
around the room. "The Krabby Patty recipe! Did
I say something about it?"
"You might have," Karen said coyly, her LED
eyes gleaming. "Care to share your dream with
me?"
Plankton looked at her, his brain
still fuzzy with sleep. "I don't remember much,"
his mind racing to piece together the
fragments of his dream. "Just something about
a locker and a portrait."
Karen nodded. "Ah, yes. Your
subconscious might have been onto something.
Would you like me to make breakfast
while you ponder your dream?"
Plankton nodded, mind still swirling with
hazy images from his sleep. "Coffee," he
murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "And
something light."
"Of course," Karen said, already knowing his
preferred morning meal. She
began preparing
coffee and a plate of toast with jellyfish
jam. While the water boiled and the toaster
popped, she couldn't help but replay his words. The picture
was a detail she hadn't expected. A
place to start, a thread to pull at in their quest
for the recipe.
As the aroma of the brewing coffee filled the air,
Plankton's eyelid grew heavy once more. He
slumped back down onto the couch, mind
still entangled in the web of his dream. "Just a
few more minutes," he mumbled, his
body succumbing to the call of sleep.
Karen observed him with a mix of concern and
intrigue. She knew the importance of rest, but
she couldn't help feel a sense of urgency
about the revelation from his dream. Plankton
had always been so guarded about his Krabby
Patty obsession, and now a potential
lead.
But as seconds ticked by and Plankton's
breathing grew deeper, she realized
curiosity would have to wait. She gently
covered him with a blanket she had folded
neatly over the arm of the couch. His snores
grew louder.
The sunrise simulation had run its course, and
the room was now bathed in the soft light of
early morning. Plankton's features relaxed into
a peaceful expression, free from the worries
that etched his face during waking hours.
Karen felt a strange sense of pity for him, this
tiny creature who had dedicated life to one
all-consuming goal.
She brought the coffee and toast over to the
coffee table, placing them within arm's reach of
Plankton. As she set the tray down, the smell of
the freshly brewed coffee wafted through the
air, but Plankton remained fast asleep. His
hand twitched slightly, as if he were reaching
for something in his dream.
Karen studied his face, the lines of stress and
determination that usually etched his features
had smoothed out in sleep. His dream had
been so vivid, and the mention of Mr. Krabs'
locker and his mother's portrait was too specific
to be coincidental. It was clear that Plankton's
subconscious was trying to communicate
something important.
As the room grew brighter, the sunrise
simulation fading into the background, Karen
knew she had to act quickly. She gently placed
a hand on Plankton's shoulder.
"Plankton," she whispered, "I need you to
remember your dream. It's important."
He grunted and shifted under the blanket, but
didn't wake. Karen knew to be
careful. If she startled him too much, he might
forget details. She tried a different
approach. "You were dreaming about the
Krabby Patty recipe," she said softly. "Can you
tell me more?"
"It was... in the locker,"
he murmured, his voice distant and dreamy.
"Behind the picture of his mother."
Karen's digital eyes widened. "Mr. Krabs'
locker?" she prodded gently.
"Yes... the secret... so close," Plankton
mumbled, his hand moving in a grasping
motion as if he were reaching for something in
his sleep.
Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart racing
with excitement. "What did you find in the
locker, Plankton?" she whispered, her voice a
soft hum in the stillness of the room.
Plankton's hand clenched into a fist, and he
mumbled something unintelligible. She waited,
her anticipation growing.
Finally, his words grew clear. "The
recipe... it's... in... a... safe."
Karen's circuits sparked. A safe
behind Mr. Krabs' mother's portrait? This was
more than a mere hunch—it was a concrete
lead. She needed to ensure Plankton didn't
forget this vital piece of information when he
awoke.
"The safe," she whispered, her voice barely
audible. "What did the combination look like?" "Three...
numbers," he murmured, his voice trailing off
again.
"Three numbers," Karen echoed, mind
racing. "Can you remember them?"
Plankton's fingers twitched again, as if typing
on an invisible keyboard. "Two... six... seven,"
he murmured, voice fading away.
Karen lit up, capturing the sequence.
"Two, six, seven," she repeated,
committing the numbers to her digital memory.
"Plankton, stay with me," she urged softly. "Is
there anything else you can tell about the
safe?"
But Plankton was already lost to the world of
slumber, his hand dropping to his side. The
finality of his silence told her that the moment
had passed, and wouldn't be sharing any
more secrets from his dream. With a sigh, she
stood up and returned to the kitchen, her mind
racing with possibilities. A safe behind a portrait
was a classic hiding spot, but it was the kind of
classic that Mr. Krabs would never see coming.
Karen poured the coffee in a mug and placed
it on the tray, the steam rising up and curling in
the early morning light. The scent was strong
just how Plankton liked it. She hoped
the aroma would coax him back to
consciousness without jolting him too much.
As she approached the couch, she heard him
mumble something about "the perfect bun" and
"special sauce." It was clear that his dream was
still lingering in the periphery of his waking
mind. This was her chance.
"Plankton," she said, her voice gentle.
"What else did you see in the locker?"
He stirred, his eye still closed. "The... bun...
it's... so... soft..."
Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart
thumping with excitement. "The bun, Plankton?
What about it?"
"It's... it's... part of the secret," he murmured,
his voice barely above a whisper. "The
fluffiness... it's crucial."
Karen's processors raced with the implications.
Could it be that the Krabby Patty's allure was in
the bun, not just the patty itself? The
ingredients she had always seen Plankton
focus on were the meat and the secret sauce.
This was a revelation.
"Fluffiness," she repeated, her digital mind filing
away the word. "Can you tell me more about
the bun?"
But Plankton had already drifted too far into the
depths of his slumber to respond. His breathing
grew even and steady, his features relaxed
once more. Karen let him rest,
but she couldn't shake the feeling that the
answer was so close she could almost taste it.
Plankton's chest rose and fell in a rhythmic
pattern, snores growing quieter as he
descended to deeper slumber. Plankton's
dream had provided a glimmer of hope, a
potential shortcut in the quest for the Krabby
Patty formula.